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“You must think of the time your own bodies, your Molly and Micky bodies, last felt physical pain. For me, for instance, it was when I nearly twisted my ankle running across St. James’s Park after you two when you were ravens. Next I want you to remember the last time your own body felt something good. Both of these things can be tricky. Recalling physical memories from your muscles isn’t as easy as drumming up memories connected to emotional feelings or memories to do with images. Now think hard.”

Both Molly and Micky cast their minds back to when they had last been in their own bodies.

“I had a cut on my finger, right along the side of my nail,” said Micky with delight, as though he’d just gotten a line of numbers in a bingo game. Molly wished she had something as obvious as that to recall.

“Um,” she muttered.

“Did you hurt yourself in the air vents inside the casino?” Micky asked.

“No.”

“That morning?”

“Yes!” Molly said, equally joyful. “I stubbed my toe on the bed’s leg.”

“Brilliant,” Black agreed. “And can you both actually remember the pain?” Molly as AH2 and Micky as Leonard both shut their eyes and concentrated hard. They both nodded.

“I think so,” Molly said.

“Good,” Black went on. “Now think of a good physical memory.”

“Do you remember how nice it felt to stretch our legs after we got out of Miss Hunroe’s car?” Micky asked Molly.

“Yes,” Molly replied. “I really remember that. Okay. So what’s the next step?”

“The next step is perhaps easier,” said Black. “Each of you must picture your real self as if looking in a mirror at yourself. Really see yourself and your reflection. Can you do that?

“Well, once you’ve got all these ingredients together—the good feeling, the painful one, the picture of yourself—layer them so that they are all present at once. Then rise up so that you are looking at your reflection from above. Last, do all this while you are staring at a space on the floor where you want to be. What you must do now is sort of push your imagined reflection, with the feeling of pain and pleasure, into this space where you want to be.”

“That sounds really complicated and really impossible.” Micky gulped. “It’s a kind of teleportation.”

“Yes, it is.”

Molly grimaced.

And so they began.

“I suggest,” Black said, “that you look in these mirrors.” He gestured to the walls of mirror beside him. “Stare at yourselves intensely. Stare straight into your eyeballs—and keep staring. If you don’t move your eyes, you’ll find that the face of the two men that you are now inside will drop away, and you can imagine whatever face you like. Imagine your own faces, and go from there.”

“I know this,” Molly exclaimed. “Ages ago I used to stare in the mirror and watch my face change.”

“There you go.” Black rubbed his hands together. “Are you ready?”

“Sounds difficult,” Micky mumbled.

As Molly glued her eyes to the sharp blue eyes in the mirror, she was suddenly overcome with a longing to get back to herself. She loved being herself, Molly Moon. Odd-looking Molly Moon with closely set green eyes and a potatoey nose. Molly Moon with blotchy, skinny legs and sweaty hands. Molly didn’t care what she looked like. She just wanted to be in her own body again.

She’d been a ladybug, a pigeon, an elderly lady, a beautiful young woman, a rat, a dog, a blackbird, the queen, a raven, a schoolboy, a crazy redheaded Chinese tourist, and finally, a pilot obsessed with aliens. She’d been male and female, young and old, furry, winged, fat, thin, fit, unfit. And not one of those bodies felt quite as good as her own. Each body had felt like a piece of clothing that didn’t suit her. Molly wanted her own imperfect, but perfect for her, body back.

So, as if nothing in the world mattered as much, Molly stared hard into the mirror, into AH2’s eyes, and tried to see her real self. She imagined herself in jeans and a T-shirt. She imagined her scruffy hair and as many of her other features as she could. And soon AH2’s reflection began to disappear from the mirror, to be replaced by a faint and then a very definite imagined image of herself, Molly Moon. Molly saw her own face crystallize, and then her torso come into focus. Next came her arms and hands and her legs and feet. Simultaneously, Molly tried to remember both the wonderful feeling of stretching out her own muscles and limbs, as well as the feeling of how it had hurt stubbing her toe. Molly had all the ingredients.

Now came the most difficult part. Molly found a space on the floor. With all the intent that she could muster, she planted the phantom version of herself into that space. Her eyes throbbed as she stared. It was as though they were getting bigger and bigger, and suddenly as though they were becoming hollow. Something was happening now, and Molly had no control over it. As though she had blown a crack in the wall of a dam, she now felt herself shooting like spraying flood water out through the crack—out of AH2’s eyes, into the space on the floor. Her being gushed out of him.

And then she felt herself turn upside down, as though she were diving. Below her, she saw the crown of her own head—her own Molly Moon head. In she dived. Her own body greeted her like a long-lost friend. And then Molly came up for air and took a breath. Molly was well and truly back.

“What the—?” AH2 began. He staggered to the other sofa and collapsed.

“Whoa! Man!” Leonard gasped, sitting down.

Sensing a change of energy in the room, Petula pulled her head out from behind her cushion. At once she saw that Molly and Micky were back. Delighted, she jumped onto the floor and ran over to Molly, barking.

Molly bent down and gave Petula a huge hug. Then she turned to see what had happened to Micky. There on the chair sat Leonard, looking dazed and confused, and three feet away from him stood Micky, except it wasn’t Micky as she knew him. It was a furry Micky. His face and body were as furry as a brown bear’s.

“Uuuaaargh!” he yelped, leaping about and pointing at his hairy arms and stomach. “This isn’t me!”

“Oh, um. Right,” Black said. “Calm down, and don’t worry. This sort of thing is completely normal. Let’s see. I wonder what you did wrong. You just got your skin wrong, really. So do it again, but next time imagine your usual skin.”

So Micky had another go. This time it worked.

“You did it!” Black exclaimed, clapping his hands with delight.

“But I haven’t got any clothes on!” Micky replied, frowning down at his bare legs. He quickly grabbed Petula’s cushion.

“You didn’t imagine them, that’s why.” Molly laughed. And then she couldn’t stop laughing. “Oh, Micky, you’re so funny!” Molly was so relieved that she lay on her back laughing until her ribs hurt. As she rolled around, Dot entered the room and handed Micky his old clothes, freshly laundered and nicely folded.

“I think these are yours? I came across them yesterday evening in the casino office. And,” she said, passing Molly her charm necklace, “I think this is probably yours.”

“Oh, thank you!” Molly beamed. She fingered the animals on the chain. A pug, an elephant, and two blackbirds. She put it on and smiled.

“Congratulations, you two,” said Black. “That really was an achievement. To get it right first time is not normal.” He smiled, but then a bolt of lightning flashed outside the apartment window, and his expression changed. “You are, thank goodness, safely back in yourselves, Molly and Micky….” His voice trailed off, and he glanced up at the dark clouds. Rain was now dashing heavily on the window. He gazed back into the room, his eyes falling distractedly on AH2. “But unfortunately, Hunroe has the book. And I’m afraid that the whole world is probably now the most unsafe it has ever been.” Black’s voice trembled slightly. He looked out of the window again. “And you two may think that you’ve seen terrible danger, but I’m afraid that in days to come things are going to be worse.”